Absolution
by Nyte Kat
Summary: Razor was broken when Dark Kat set him up in "Razor's Edge." But what would it do to him if he really did take someone's life? Would his doubt and his guilt consume him? Can one really 'make it up' to those affected by the loss?
1. censure

_**I'm feeling a little stressed right now and I need to bring someone down with me. Since it's bad to project your feelings onto other people, I'm projecting them onto fictional characters. I don't own anything or anyone. And I'm sorry I don't have all the answers.**_

_**Nyte Kat.**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

"I hate myself for this," he thought. "I hate myself for every life-taking object I created." Another piece of shredded metal landed in the pile of scrap. "This..." he said out loud. "_This_ is complete fucking bullshit and you know it!" He drove his foot into the growing mound of dismantled equipment. "I don't even know what I'm doing!"

"You're destroying all our stuff!" His friend shouted from the landing at the base of the concrete stairs.

"I killed someone." The smaller male said. "I was careless and it cost someone her life." Tears welled up in his amber colored eyes and the knot in the pit of his stomach twisted as his mind clouded with the image of her head lolling off her shoulders and blood spraying the walls. "I killed someone," he repeated.

"Hey!" His friend gripped his shoulders, desperately trying to end the self destruction before it started. "We knew the risks when we decided to do this! How long have we been doing this? A year, buddy! And this is the first time we've had a casualty."

"_We_ didn't build those weapons! I built them. Her blood is on _my_ paws!" He shoved his friend, his partner away. "I'm done."

"You're what?"

"You heard me. I'm done, Chance. I quit. I can't do this anymore."

"Jake..." Chance trailed off. "It was an accident."

"I swore to protect the citizens of this city, Chance. Not to cut off their _fucking_ heads!" He snarled and swept his arm across the work bench cluttered with his inventions in various states of construction. They clattered to the floor loudly. Jake was trembling from ear to tail. He ran a shaky paw through his hair.

"They were told to evacuate those buildings, Jake. You can't take the blame for this!" Chance felt anger surge up inside of him. "Jesus... you take everything so fucking personally!"

"I could've used a different weapon." Jake shook his head. "The octopus missile would've worked just fine. I didn't need something so dangerous."

"You had no way of knowing..."

"It doesn't matter! Whether I knew or not, I should've taken the precaution!" Jake snapped, slamming his fists down on the newly empty surface of the work bench. "I killed someone," he said again.

"It. Wasn't. Your. Fault." Chance ground out, wanting to shake sense back into his WSO. "Get it through your thick skull."

"Fuck you, Chance! You know damn well I can't just walk away from this!" Jake screamed, throwing his arms up in the air. "What if Feral's right? What if we are just a bunch of reckless hotshots?"  
"Feral's never right." Chance snorted. "And we aren't reckless. You know that. If we were reckless, then that jet would've already been destroyed."

"We're not reckless?" Jake chuckled darkly. "Funny. Everyone else seems to see it differently." He picked up the day's paper and held it up.

"**Reckless Act of Vigilantism Results in Tragic Loss"**

"Aw.. come on, Jake! It's the fucking news paper! They're glorifying this for their own gain!" Chance scoffed.

"She had a kit, Chance! She was a single mom with a teenage daughter and now there's an orphan out there because I fucked up!" Jake's anger gave way to melancholy. "Jesus, Chance..." He hit the bench again, softer this time. "I have to fix this."

"What?" Chance's eyes widened. "How the hell do you plan on doing that?"

"I don't know." Jake whispered. "I don't _fucking_ know."

tbc...


	2. charity

_**The second chapter in my latest abomination. I dunno what I'm doing here. I don't own a damn thing.**_

_**NK

* * *

  
**_

**(Five Years Later)**

"Set 'em up Marlene." A bony, frail brunette pulled herself up on a bar stool.

"Another bad day?" Marlene asked from behind the bar, handing a fresh whiskey on the rocks to the rusty furred patron at the stool just beside the she-kat she was speaking to.

"You could say that." Claire eyed the tom next to her before looking back at Marlene. "Tequila."

"You got fired, didn't you?"

Claire shrugged. "'Fired' is such a nasty word. It's right up there with 'orphan' and 'decapitation' on the list of words I cringe when I hear."

"You shouldn't joke about it, Claire." Marlene reprimanded. "Why'd you get fired?"

Claire couldn't help but notice how the kat next to her was twitching an ear in her direction. She shot him a dirty look before looking back at the bartender. "You could say I failed a test."

Marlene gave her a hard look as she set up a row of shot glasses. "What are you going to do? You're roommates aren't going to let you mooch off them that much longer?"

Claire took two shots and looked up at Marlene. "You aren't looking for a waitress, are you?"

"Not unless you cleaned your act up." Marlene glared.

"I didn't think so," Claire sighed. She glared at the kat next to her. "Alright, pal, since you're hearing my story... what's a kat like you doing in a dump like this?"

"Claire my bar is not a dump!" Marlene slammed the bottle of tequila down on the counter just as the kat in question pushed his empty tumbler towards her. "And you... if I have to call Chance tonight, he's going to be pissed."

"He's always pissed." The kat replied quietly, pulling out his wallet. "One more."

Marlene shook her head but took the money, her graying ears falling forward.

"Well come on, out with it." Claire pushed, signaling Marlene to set up some more shots. She studied the tom. He was young, probably in his late twenties. But his clothes were baggy and disheveled, and his fur was a mess.

"You first." He squinted at her with one eye. "You're the stranger, not me."

"I'm not a stranger. I used to work here." Claire eyed the new line of shot glasses. "When I was a teen, I used to wait tables for Marley here until..." She trailed off.

"Til what?" Jake snorted. "You got hooked on meth and started hooking for a living?"

"Jake!" Marlene snapped. "I'm not proud of the choices Claire has made in her life, but she is in no way close to being a hooker. And I won't tolerate you causing any trouble tonight."

"No." Claire snapped at the sarcastic tom. "Until my mother was killed."

"Oh." Jake softened and downed his drink, nodding his head at Marlene. "And how'd that happen?"

"The Swat Kats." Claire quickly took her shots, shaking her head as a chill ran down her spine. "She got stuck in a building during an evacuation. And one of those stupid so called 'hero's' weapons..." She made a slicing motion across her throat followed by a barely audible 'shink.'

Jake felt his jaw drop. "That was_ your mom_?"

Claire gave him a funny look. "What? You knew her or something?"

He gulped down his last drink and pulled out his wallet. "I gotta go, Mar." Jake plucked a business card from his wallet and set it down forcefully near one of Claire's paws. "I might be able to help you." He staggered away from the stool and dug for his keys. "Shit," he cursed. "Come on Marley..."

"Nope," she sighed. "If you can wait another ten minutes, my shift is almost up and I can take you home."

"Awesome," Jake mumbled.

* * *

Chance heard the floorboards creak all the way down in the hangar as he worked on the upgrades to the Turbokat. True to his word, Jake hadn't picked up his flight suit since that one night five years ago. "Nope," Chance thought bitterly. "Instead, he traded a glovatrix for a bottle." He sighed. As much as he wanted to just kick Jake to the curb and be done with it, that kat was his best friend. And they were the closest thing to family that each other had. It didn't help that they still owed a ton of money to Feral, and Jake still did his job, mostly. When he managed to pull himself out of bed and out of the haze from the late night before. The tabby's thought process was interrupted when he heard Jake's boots echoing on the concrete steps leading down into the hangar. He snapped his head up. It was a rare thing for his friend to come down those stairs.

"What's going on, Jake?" Chance studied him. He could smell the alcohol even though he was several feet from his friend. "Marlene drop you off?"

"I found her, Chance." Jake lowered himself unsteadily to the steps and leaned against the subterranean wall.

"Found who?"

"The she-kat whose life I ruined." His head thumped softly against the cold brick surface behind him. "Her name's Claire."

Chance sighed loudly. "I already told you Jake, there's nothing you can do to..."

"I gave her our business card." Jake cut him off. "She needs a job."

"Jake are you nuts?!" Chance dropped what he was doing to glare at the kat slumped on the steps.

"I fucked up her life! What was I s'posed to do? Just walk away?" Jake defended himself.

"That's just great and all except for all of _this_!" Chance gestured wildly at the Turbokat and surrounding items. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

Jake's jaw hung open as he struggled to find a response.

"Exactly," Chance said, shaking head head. "So what're we going to do if she comes looking for a job? Rig up some sort of silent alarm?"

"That could work." Jake mused.

Chance rolled his eyes. "As thrilled as I am to see you interested in something, that was a rhetorical question. It's not going to work."

"It will work." Jake said. "It has to."

It was the desperate lilt in his voice that had Chance hanging his head. He filled his lungs and exhaled slowly. "Let's see if she even shows up first."

"Alright," Jake clumsily pushed himself up.

"And Jake..." Chance sighed. "I'll let her work here on one condition."  
"What's that?" Jake leaned heavily on the railing overlooking the hangar.

"Stop drinking."

It was Jake's turn to roll his eyes. He did so as he turned away.

"I'm serious Jake. How do you expect to fix someone else's life when you can't even manage your own?"

Jake hung his head. He knew Chance was right. And it pissed him off. "Yeah, okay," he said and went back up the stairs.

"Who am I kidding?" Chance asked aloud once he was alone. If he was honest with himself, he never expected it to come to this. In the beginning, right after the incident, he'd silently put his partner and friend on suicide watch. Chance had truly been afraid his best friend was going to eat his gun or something. Instead, he drank himself stupid and didn't get out of bed for two weeks. From there, it turned into a nightly thing. And he didn't know who that kat thought he was fooling when he finally decided to grace the day with his presence. Chance knew the smell of vodka when it hit him. Orange juice wasn't that clever of a disguise. He sighed. "I'm gonna get you back, buddy. I don't care what it takes."

* * *

Jake dropped fully clothed onto his unmade bed and pulled the nearly empty liquor bottle out from under his pillow. What had he expected? She was clearly on drugs. Had to be coke or meth. Something that broke you down and made you thin. He snorted. Did that make him pot or kettle? He'd certainly lost his fair share of weight as muscle deteriorated and his body ate itself in place of the of nutrients it wasn't getting. He was far thinner than he'd ever been. Shaking his head, Jake grabbed the remote to his stereo and clicked it on. It shuffled through the discs, seeming to settle on the right songs for his mood. "Mes excuses, Claire." He tipped the bottle as if he were making a toast before turning it up. "Claire is a French name, right?" He asked out loud after swallowing the mouthful of harsh liquid.

* * *

Chance pushed open Jake's door. He didn't bother tip toeing around or anything. He knew Jake would be out like a light by this time. And he wasn't disappointed as he found his friend slumped against his pillow, a bottle containing probably an ounce and a half of liquor dangerously close to falling onto the floor hanging precariously from one of his paws. Chance turned off the stereo and plucked the bottle from his friend's grasp. Jake didn't so much as twitch.

"You're going to hate me in the morning." Chance said as he pulled Jake's shoes off and tried to work the blankets out from under the ginger tom. "But you're going to thank me later." He thought of all the times over the past five years that he'd held his friend up at night, all the times he'd been called from the bar, all the times the alarm had gone off and he'd had to fly solo because his weapons systems operator was MIA or passed out on the kitchen floor, because he'd given up. After getting Jake tucked into bed, Chance began his search. After thirty minutes, he'd managed to come up with several glass bottles, some empty, others nearly full. And that was just the bed room. Using his shoulder to hit the light and his foot to close the door, the tabby took his find to the kitchen, where he combed through the cabinets and the refrigerator. Finally, he dumped the bottles in the sink and dropped the empty glass in the trash. Chance tied it up and took it out to the can.

As usual, Marlene left Jake's motorcycle keys in the mailbox. Chance picked them up and got in the tow truck. It was a twenty minute drive there and back.

"I should've done this before it got out of hand." He reprimanded himself as he locked up the bike in the hangar and hooked Jake's keys on his own.

* * *

Jake woke up with his heart beating in his head and the sun burning against his fur. "Ungh..." He risked cracking an eye open. "I thought I closed the blinds..." he mumbled. "Mmm... whatever." Jake rolled over tiredly and pulled one of his pillows over his head. The sound of a horn honking loudly outside reminded him that it was a work day. If Burke and Murray were dropping off their usual load of junk, then it was close to lunch time. "Way to go, Jake." He snorted and pushed himself up. The familiar nausea crept up inside of him and he reached under his pillow. "What the..?" Frowning, he dug his arm between the bed and the table. "That's weird..." Jake tried to remember the night before. He didn't remember moving after settling down on his bed, but then his shoes were off and so was the music. "Must've finished it..." His legs protested against his weight and he wobbled unsteadily towards the door.

After several seemingly disoriented movements, Jake managed to move from his room to the kitchen. He poured a glass of orange juice, managing to only spill half of it. Then he set the glass on the counter and opened the cupboard. He narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is going on?"

The door opened. "Hey Jake. That Claire girl is here. I told her I'd get you." Chance looked from Jake to the open cupboard. "What are you looking for?"

"Did you come in my room last night?"

"We'll talk about it later. Come on. You want to help this girl out or not?" Chance cocked his head towards the garage.

"Yeah..." Jake quickly chugged his juice, nearly choking on the taste. It hit his stomach like lead.

* * *

Claire was standing in the open bay with her paws buried deep in her pockets. Her chocolate brown fur looked dull and her clothes seemed to match Jake's as far as wrinkles and filth went. It didn't seem to phase her at all that Jake was wearing the exact same thing he'd been wearing at the bar the night before. In the daylight, however, she could see the telltale signs of an alcoholic. "Who am I to judge?" She thought.

"You know anything about cars?" Chance asked, since Jake hadn't seemed to think about that.

"A little bit." Claire shrugged.

"How much is a little bit?" He fought to keep the worried look off his face.

Claire smirked. "What do I gotta take a test or something?"

Chance shrugged. "That's not a bad idea."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Alright look. I've been on my own since I was 16. I drive that piece of shit nineteen eighty something death trap and I've managed to keep it running in spite of not having a single job last more than a couple months. If you want, go look under the hood and see how badly I've fucked it up."

"Alright," Chance held out his paw for the key.

Claire chuckled. "It's in the ignition."

Chance shot Jake a look and jerked his head towards the car. "What is she on?" He asked when she was out of earshot.

Jake shrugged and wiped his paws on his jeans. His palms were suddenly feeling sweaty. "I dunno." He went around to the driver's side door and got in. His paw froze just above the ignition. "Um.... okay..."

"Huh?" Chance asked, waiting for him to pop the hood.

"Hang on..." Jake studied the steering column for a moment, shaking his head when he realized she'd rigged it to start straight from the wiring. "Heh," he chuckled and reached down to pull the lever for the hood. It popped open and Jake touched the wires together to start the car. He got out and walked over to the she-kat.

"Is that car yours?" Jake licked his lips. He really needed a drink.

"Yeah." Claire rolled her eyes. "I broke the key off in the ignition and I couldn't afford to fix it the right way so I had to ghetto rig it."

"Ghetto rig it?" Jake's ears twitched. "You hot wired that sucker."

"Tch'yeah well..." Claire looked down at her feet. "I was kinda out of options."

His ears flattened against his head and he couldn't help but wonder if she'd be in college instead if her mother was still alive.

Chance didn't have to look at Jake to see the look of self-loathing on his face. He walked around to the driver's side and looked at the ignition. With a sigh he shut it off. His eyes did a quick study of the interior of her car. It was littered with several lighters. Under the pretense of looking at the ignition panel, Chance slid into the driver's seat. He looked up to see if they were looking before reaching for the glove box. It was locked. He tried the console in the middle. Locked too. He shot her a suspicious look as he got back out.

"Alright so here's the deal." Chance wiped his paws on his coveralls. "You can have this job on a few conditions."

"Okay." Claire waited. "Hit me."

"One: first time you come in messed up, you're fired. Two: don't ask questions. You see something weird, you don't ask. In turn, if I see something weird, I'll keep my mouth shut. And three: don't bring anything shady here."

"When can I start?" She asked.

"Tomorrow. Ten in the morning." Chance watched her go before turning to Jake. He pointed an accusing claw in his face. "I'm doing this for you."

Jake looked down at his feet, shivering slightly as Chance brushed past him to go back inside the garage.

"You gonna help me sort through this junk or are you just going to stand there?" Chance called over his shoulder.

Jake turned around and walked back towards the garage. Something glinted in the trash and he glanced at the can. The label on an empty cheap whiskey bottle reflected the sun through the clear plastic. A sharp, longing feeling stabbed him in the gut. What was Chance doing to him?

tbc...

_**Here are a few songs I owe for helping me get through this. And writing this story too:**_

_**Vermillion Pt 2 By Slipknot**_

_**Who I am Hates Who I've Been by Reliant K**_

_**Hate Me by Blue October**_

_**All My Problems by Smile Empty Soul**_

_**Zzyzx Rd by Stone Sour**_

_**Burn by Three Days Grace**_

_**45 (the acoustic version) by Shinedown**_

_**Coma White by Marilyn Manson**_

_**Black Balloon by The Goo Goo Dolls**_

_**Suicide Is Painless by Manic Street Preachers**_

_**and many many more... I actually put together a playlist on my zune and that lead to this....  
**_


	3. condonation

_**nothing owned, nothing gained. blah blah blah. NK**_

Chance looked from the office window out into the garage. So far so good, but it had only been a day with Claire working for them. He looked from her to Jake. Now that was a different story all together.

Jake ran his trembling paws through his dirty hair. He was shaking all over and sweating as if it was July instead of October. He desperately wanted a drink. And Claire had asked if he wanted to go to Marlene's but Chance had thrown a wrench in it, telling her that Jake was on the wagon.

"That's not what it looks like to me," she'd said but shrugged. "Whatever."

"God damn it!" Jake shouted and slammed his paws into the front of the car he'd been trying to work on. But his brain couldn't seem to focus. His skin felt like it was crawling with bugs and his stomach was doing flips.

"Whoa," Claire cut her brown eyes at him. "Chill out there, psychopath."

"Fuck you, Claire." Jake hissed. "Just... fuck you." He stormed off.

Chance came out of the office, shooting the new hire an apologetic look. "He's... uh... not normally like that."

"I kinda figured by the way you were hiding in the office. Is that some sort of hazing technique? Leave the new hire out here with the crazy moody one?" She crossed her arms over her flat chest and glared.

"Yeah..." Chance scratched the back of his head. "Look, I don't really know what's going on with Jake. I mean, I figured he'd be mad that I put my foot down about the drinking, but, I dunno, it's like he's sick or something."

"So... okay... he was at Marlene's two days ago. I'm guessing this whole sobriety thing is a new thing, right?"

"Yeah. Since yesterday." Chance shot a worried glance out the open bay doors to where Jake was pacing around, mumbling to himself.

"He's going through withdrawals." Claire pointed out at him.

Chance stared at her blankly. "Gah!" He slapped himself in the forehead after a moment. "I didn't even think about that!" He shot Jake a worried glance. "What should I do?"

"If he was in a hospital, they'd have him restrained." Claire smirked.

"They'd what? Is it that bad?" Chance's blue eyes widened.

Claire shrugged. "It can be. Depends on what your detoxing."

Chance watched Jake collapse to his knees and start vomiting. "Should I take him to the hospital?"

"You don't have anything to restrain him with here?"

"I'm not restraining him." Chance glared at Claire. "What else is there?"

"I don't know. Look, I had this friend once. She got sent to rehab and she said the first week was miserable. But the first 72 hours were absolute hell."

"What was she on?"

"Nothing. Alcohol."

"Okay," Chance gestured towards Jake. "Alcohol, check."

"Alright... she said it was like having the flu... you know vomiting, chills, sweating. But then there was weird stuff too like mood swings... I mean seriously violent mood swings. Hot to cold and then hot again in less than a second." Claire made a sniffing sound and scratched her nose. "She said she felt shaky, like from inside of her, you know? Down to the bone, shaking so bad she couldn't stand. Weak. Couldn't sleep or eat. Racing pulse. You know, now that I think of it, he should probably be inside. And you want to keep him hydrated. They gave her some kind of vitamins."

"Can you find out?" Chance started to walk outside.

"Can I use the phone?"

"So long as you aren't making a drug deal." He gave her a serious look.

* * *

Jake dug his claws into the dirt and gravel. He was shaking so hard, he thought for a moment he could feel the earth beneath him vibrating. "Jake."

"Huh?" He didn't lift his head or open his eyes. He was pretty sure he'd lost control of his bladder when he'd started to throw up but he couldn't tell because he was sweating so profusely.

"Think you can stand up?"

"Uh uh." Jake didn't bother shaking his head. His heart was beating so fast, he was almost positive that if he made any sort of vertical movement, he'd pass out. "Ch-Ch-Chance..." he stuttered. "What's wr-wr-wrong with me?"

"Come on. Let's get you inside." Chance hooked his paws under Jake's arms and carefully pulled him to his feet. He was so thin, it was like lifting a doll.

"Can't... gonna... pass out..." Jake struggled as his vision began to darken around the edges.

Chance felt the weight in his arms go limp. Carefully, he lifted his friend, making a face. "God you're a mess, buddy." He laid Jake on the couch in the waiting area and looked at Claire. "It's almost three. What do you say to calling it a day?"

"Am I still going to get paid for a whole day?"

Chance didn't reply. He simply went into the office and opened the safe. He counted out a days worth of pay and closed the safe back.

"Here you go." Chance handed the bills to her. "See you tomorrow."

Claire rolled up the money and put in her pocket. "Yep. And my friend said it was Vitamin B... thiamine or something like that" And she was gone.

Chance closed the shop and went back over to his unconscious friend. "When's the last time you took a shower?"

* * *

Chance lowered the feverish kat into the cool bath water. "Don't say I never did nothing for you." He said without any heat as he reached for the soap. By the time he'd scrubbed Jake, the fever had turned to chills. Chance turned on the warm water and used that to rinse him.

"Unh..." Jake moaned and turned his head as Chance was reaching for the drain plug.

"You with me, buddy?" Chance said almost tenderly.

"C-c-c-col-col-cold..." Jake trembled. "Th-th-th-thir-thir-thirsty..."

Chance held out a large fluffy towel.

Jake licked his lips. His mouth felt so dry. "Chance... I dunno... I can't... unh..." He clutched his stomach as he tried to force himself up.

"Take it easy, Jake." Chance felt a lump form in his throat as he helped Jake out of the tub, wrapping the towel snugly around him. "Let's get you warmed up."

"Why... why are you b-b-being so n-n-nice to me?" Jake felt like his legs were made of jelly.

"Because I care about you." Chance steered him towards his room and sat him on his bed.

"If y-y-you w-w-w-were m-my friend. You'd g-g-g-get me s-s-s-s-something to drink." Jake dug his claws into the tangled mess of sheets to steady himself.

"I'll get you some water as soon as I find something warm for you to wear." Chance ignored the hateful look he received as he came across a pair of clean sweat pants and a clean t-shirt. "You need to do some laundry, buddy."

"Fuck you," Jake hissed through his tightly clenched jaw as he struggled to put on the clothes that had just been dumped in his lap.

"Yeah well... I love you too, thanks." Chance shook his head sadly. He left briefly and returned with a bottle of water.

Jake looked at it, confusion evident in his cloudy eyes.

"You said you were thirsty." Chance held it out. "That's all you're getting."

They both jumped when the alarm suddenly went off. "Damn it!" Chance growled. "That she-kat has the _worst_ timing!"

He looked at Jake. The skinny copper furred tom was shaking and breathing as if he'd just run a mile. And he was sweating again.

"Don't do anything stupid." Chance snapped. "If you aren't here when I get back, I will find you and take you to the clinic."

As soon as the door shut, Jake launched off the bed and immediately started tearing things apart. He moved the mattress and the bed, emptied out drawers and his closet. "Shit," he panted, scrubbing at his face. It wasn't that much longer before he heard the rumble of a nearby jet. "S'gotta be something... s'gotta be something here..." He stumbled out of his room and into the kitchen where he repeated the same careless search.

"FUCK YOU CHANCE!" Jake shouted angrily. "Chance..." He gasped and went into his friend's room. Straight to the bedside table he went. Inside there was a silver engraved flask. From his father before he died. Jake lifted it and shook it. Empty. He dropped it back inside the drawer and sank down to the floor. "What's wrong with me?" He rocked forward, dragging his claws down his cheeks. How many times had he told Chance he could control it? That it wasn't excessive? To fuck off? He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom. For the first time in years, he looked in the mirror. A small gasp of shock escaped his chapped lips. The kat looking back at him didn't look 28. The kat looking back at him had sunken eyes and hallow cheeks. The whites of his eyes were red and his fur had lost its shine. Jake hit the mirror with an open palm. It clicked open and Jake's eyes now rested on a bottle of mouthwash, honing in on the alcohol content warning. His breathing hitched and it was in his paws before he could tell himself 'no.'

* * *

It didn't take T-Bone any more than a couple of hours to deal with the latest Dr. Viper attack. When he'd finished, however, he decided to go on a different mission. He wanted to do a little bit of reconnaissance on their new hire. The orphan. Abandoning the Turbokat in a secluded area and activating it's stealth mode, he took the Cyclotron through the city. He wasn't surprised at all to find himself in the poorer part of the metropolis. Like a superhero from one of his beloved comic books, he used his grappling hook once he could no longer be inconspicuous on a motorcycle. It wasn't long before he found himself perched on the fire escape outside her window. Just as the sun was setting.

Claire took a puff off the smoldering joint she'd been handed and passed it back. "That's dank," she replied, her voice tight as she held the smoke in her lungs. Exhaling slowly, she sat down on a couch that looked like it had been picked up off the side of the road.

"So," one of her roommates coughed. "How'd the first day go?"

"I didn't fuck it up, if that's what you're asking." Claire pulled a box out from under the couch and set it on the table. In it was a mirror, a razor blade and a piece of a straw. Then she pulled something out of her pocket that looked like a pen. Unscrewing the top, she poured its contents onto the reflective surface. As she sculpted it into a straight line, she looked up at her roommate. "You want some of this, Joe?"

"Nah," Jocelyn, Joe for short, shook her paw. "Not in the mood to get wound up."

"Good," Claire picked up the straw. "After what I had to do to get this, I didn't want to share anyway." She stuck one end of the straw in her nose and used a finger to close the other end. In one quick, fluid motion, she sucked the line of white powder up into her sinuses. Her eyes widened and she made a small gasping sound. "OH... god that's good... think I'm gonna go to Marlene's. You wanna go?"

"Nah." Joe shrugged, staying slumped in the duct tape covered bean bag. "I'm kinda hungry. Think I'm gonna order a pizza... heh or three.. what if I ordered three pizzas, Claire? You think I could eat them all?"

Claire stood up. "Yeah."

Before she could head out, the phone started ringing. "What up dawg?" She said brightly into the receiver. "Jake? Why the fuck are you calling me?"

* * *

Jake spent a long time fighting the urge to drink the cold green liquid taunting him from inside its plastic confines. He bounced back and forth between wanting to stop the pain and wanting to just stop. He didn't remember picking up the phone or why he even dialed her number. They weren't friends. They were associates, coworkers. "Cl-Claire?"

"Jake? Why the fuck are you calling me?"

"I..." Jake hated the way his heart was beating. "I didn't have anyone else..."

"What about Chance? Don't you guys, you know, live together?"

"Please... You don't have any reason to help me... I know... and I'm a jerk but... damn it..." Jake slammed the mouthwash bottle down on the coffee table.

"What do you want? I'm about to hang up on you." Claire was pacing by the door, nervous, twitchy energy bubbling inside of her.

"What happens if you drink mouthwash?" Jake spat out.

"That bad, huh? Look, I'm on my way to Marlene's. You want me to just pick you up?"

"No!" Jake shouted. "No. Chance... I can't... I just want this to stop... and I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Okay." Claire snorted. "Then drink the fucking mouthwash. When you get the shits and then go into convulsions because you turned down my offer, I don't want to hear about it." She hung up the phone. "See you later, Joe! Tell Lynn I said 'blow me' when she gets in."

Joe giggled. "You don't want the 'me' part. Just the 'blow.'"

"Damn straight." Claire smirked. "Later."

* * *

T-Bone felt his gut twist at the one sided conversation he'd just heard. Was Jake really that desperate? Shaking, T-Bone fired his grappling hook away from the fire escape and swung back through alley ways to get back to the cyclotron and then back to the Turbokat.

When the platform finally rose up to the main floor of the hangar, the Swat Kat jumped out and started immediately peeling off his flight suit in his rush to get to his friend before he did something stupid. But when he saw Jake curled up at the bottom of the steps, rocking himself and bleeding as he repeatedly dug his claws into his arms, he froze.

"What're you doing down here?"

Jake gave him a haunted look. "I..." He looked up the stairs and then back at Chance. Then down to the floor. "I locked myself in here."

"You didn't do it, did you?"

"Do what?" Jake sounded lost.

With his flight suit balled up in his arms, Chance sat down next to Jake, the cold concrete leeching through his boxers. "I tailed Claire. I wanted to see what she was like. I heard her half of your conversation with her."

Jake shook his head. "What's she like?"

"I thought you were a mess." Chance teased, gently nudging Jake with his arm. "But I get the feeling that it's more of a case of 'the wrong kind of friends' than her trying bury her pain in substance abuse."

"Chance...." Jake sagged weakly against his friend. "God I'm so stupid...."

"No you're not." Chance looked at his feet. Then he smiled. "Okay... maybe you are a little bit sometimes, but I won't hold it against you."

Jake made a strangled sobbing noise. "I just want..." He sucked in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry."

Chance hazard a glance at his friend and felt his heart sink at the tears streaming out of the once clear and bright amber eyes.

"I'm just... sorry..." Jake repeated before he fell apart.

Chance put his arm around his best friend and sat there while he cried. "I don't think you can fix her, Jake." He felt hot tears soaking into the thin fabric of his white undershirt. "But you're gonna have a better chance if you can get your head together."

tbc...

_**no comment. NK**_


	4. grace

* * *

Jake let out a sharp gasp and dropped the bottle of minty liquid. It's remains spilled across the floor while he clutched his stomach. He'd fought so hard against the compulsion just hours before. And there he stood, having failed himself and his best friend once again. On the plus side, his tumultuous thoughts seemed to level out. "Can't keep doing this..." he gripped the edge of the sink, fearing for a moment that he was going to be sick. Clumsily, he pushed himself backwards and out the door.

Chance was asleep. He wasn't a light sleeper, but he had an almost sixth sense as to when something wasn't right. Because of that, Jake knew he had to be cautious, something that wasn't easy when every inch of his body was trembling. In spite of the alcohol in the mouthwash, his heart was still racing and he was still sweating when he reached a tentative paw out for his friend's keys. Jake managed to remove his keys from the d-ring without incident. Then, like a shadow, he slipped out the door.

* * *

Chance rolled over and dropped one of his massive paws down on the squawking alarm clock. His mind drifted back to Jake's breakdown in the hangar the night before and he shot out of bed. The tabby decided he'd check on his friend just as soon as he went to the bathroom.

In the dark, he was hit with the heavy smell of spearmint and he felt something wet beneath his feet. Chance hit the switch and did a double take. "What the hell?" He lifted up one of his feet and frowned. Then his eyes widened. "Jake..." Slipping, he darted out of the bathroom and across the hall, shouldering open the door. The room was empty. "Shit." Chance swore, tangling his paws into his messy blond hair. Unsure of what to do, he hovered in the doorway for several long moments before going to the kitchen. His heart dropped into his stomach when he saw the note stuck to the fridge. It was written in messy black ink on a sheet of printer paper.

_Chance,_

_I'm sorry. I tried, but I can't do this. And it's not fair to expect you to keep picking me back up every time I screw things up. I know I'm leaving you with this Claire mess and, again, I'm sorry. I fucked things up last night. And for the first time in I don't know how long, I had a really clear view of how screwed up I am, and I'm doing what I should have done a long time ago. I'm checking myself into a clinic. I really can't think of anything else to say here. There are just so many things going through my head right now and I can't make sense of them. I'll call you as soon as I figure this mess out. _

_Thanks for everything. You have no idea how much I regret putting you through this. You deserve better. _

_-Jake-_

Chance dropped into a chair, feeling truly deflated. And at the same time, hopeful. He knew with every once of him that this was the right thing to do, but he couldn't help feeling sad knowing his best friend, his brother, was gone.

* * *

Jake was trembling by the time he'd checked himself in and got settled in a room. It had subsided, but it was back now. He'd still been lucid when he'd signed the paperwork. So when the withdrawals hit again, he was completely at their mercy. "This was a fucking stupid idea," he cursed.

"No," someone said near him. "This is the most responsible thing you could do."

Jake breathed deeply, digging his paws into his hair. "No," he moaned. "I want to leave."

"You can't leave. You signed on the line. You're here until you get through this."

* * *

Chance had pulled the transmission off and was halfway through removing the engine from a van when it hit him that Claire hadn't shown up. He struggled between calling her and not caring. "If Jake was here, he'd call her." He reminded himself and picked up the phone.

"What?" A voice snipped in his ear.

"Claire?" Chance bit back.

"Hang on." The she-kat said rudely. "CLAIRE!" He heard pounding. "What are you doing? Phone's for you." There was a shuffling sound. "Can I take a message? She's not getting up."

"Yeah. Tell her she's fired." Chance hissed and hung up the phone. Fury burned in his veins. Jake had gone out of his way to try and help that she-kat and she couldn't be bothered to come in. He slammed down his fist. If, after five years, Jake could swallow his pride and admit that he had a problem and do something about it, then he was sure he could convince that kitten to do the same thing. Chance closed up shop and went downstairs.

* * *

Claire reached an arm towards the table beside her bed. Lethargically, she pulled the drawer open and blindly dug around. "Wake and bake," she giggled to herself as her paw grasped a small ceramic box. A gloved paw suddenly clamped down over her mouth and a voice hissed in her ear.

"Get dressed. You're coming with me."

T-Bone wasn't one to use violence to coerce kats into following his lead, but in this instance, he felt there was no choice. He removed his paw, keeping his glovatrix aimed at her head as he moved around her to lock the door.

"My mother wasn't enough? You have to come back and kill me too?" Claire spat.

"Just shut your trap and put on some clothes. I don't have time for this." T-Bone snarled, almost enjoying the way she trembled as she scrambled out of bed and frantically pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

Without giving her another moment to protest, T-Bone scooped her up and took her out the window. He quickly restrained her to the cyclotron so that she wouldn't jump off and then he got on. She fought against the restraints the whole way, twisting and kicking, trying to free herself, stilling finally when they reached their destination.

"Why did you bring me here?" Claire sucked in a breath as if she'd been punched in the gut.

"Do you know how difficult it is to track down the relatives of kats you don't know?" T-Bone's eyes drifted across the cemetery. He couldn't help but to think of how strange it was that this was where Jake's parents were buried as well. Just a few rows down from Claire's mother. He unfastened the restraints and pulled her in front of her mother's grave. The lone Swat Kat felt a pang of guilt when he saw the hurt on her face. He'd felt bad about it, but never guilty. He hung his head and released his hold on her.

"We never meant for that to happen. And I know five years is a long time to wait for an apology. Razor tried to figure out a way but he never could and the guilt of what happened consumed him. Despite what we do, he's not a violent kat. But now I see you and what you're doing to yourself and I know that, if he were here, he'd do whatever he could to make this right." T-Bone pointed at her then at the grass covered mound. "And what about her? Do you think this is what she wanted for you?"

"What do you know about what she wanted?" Claire snapped. "You don't know one thing about her! And you only know me superficially, and how you know that much is beyond me!"

"I know that you're an addict and that no mother would ever want that for their kitten."

"Yeah well no one wants to hear that their mom's head got cut off!" Claire shouted. "Do you have any idea what that's like? To get pulled out of class so someone in a uniform can tell you they're sorry?" Tears pooled in her bloodshot brown eyes.

"Actually," T-Bone looked down at the ground. "I do know what that's like. And there are far better ways to deal with it than this." He sighed and pointed at her with an open paw. "I mean look at you! You're a bright kit! You should be in school right now. Instead, you're living with a stripper and a dealer and they're probably halfway responsible for how you got so screwed up."

"I don't have anywhere else to go!" Claire yelled. "And they were there when no one else was. They're my friends. My family."

"You don't get it, do you?" T-Bone gripped her shoulders. "You pretty much got handed a way out and you gave it a shot and then you gave up. I bet that's how it's been for the past five years, huh? You try to make an effort to change things, to move on, but you give up or you make mistakes that you know will screw things up for you."

Claire looked down at the ground. "I don't know who you are or how you know what you know but..." She trailed off as she dropped to her knees, putting her paws flat on the soft dying grass. "You're right." She dug her claws into the soil. "What am I supposed to do?"

T-Bone knelt beside her. "Stop giving up on yourself. Let someone in. Put your trust in strangers?"

"You want me to trust you? You killed my mother!"

"And here I am." T-Bone replied. "I should have been here sooner. Maybe if I had, Razor would've been able to be here too."

"Is he dead?" Claire asked, her voice nearly void of emotion.

"Sort of." T-Bone sighed. "He quit. He ran away. Kind of like you. He fell apart over an accident involving a complete stranger. I mean, who does that? Who loses it over hurting someone they don't even know? Isn't that a testament to how much we didn't mean for this to happen?"

"Why aren't you upset?" Claire narrowed her eyes. "If it was both your faults, why are you here and he isn't?"

"We're a team. We _were_ a team. That means if something happens we're both at fault. But I'm a pilot, not a gunner. He fired the weapon. He was trying to take out Dr. Viper's stupid vines and those buzzsaw missiles always worked best. Nobody had ever been injured before. And that building was supposed to be empty, so when it broke through a window, neither of us thought anything of it." He sighed as he recounted the events. "Dr. Viper dragged the deputy mayor into the building to lure us in. Razor went in on his own. I didn't want him to but there were so many mutant insects flying around outside, I didn't have a choice. He decided to go in where his missile had broken the window so that I wouldn't have to try to get him on the roof. When he saw her lying there, he froze up." T-Bone paced. "Razor and I have a deal. Radio contact at all times. When he never responded, never told me he'd found Miss Briggs or any sign of her, I got worried. I went in after him. He was just sitting there, on his knees, cradling her body in his arms." T-Bone shook his head. "I had to leave him there. She was gone. There was nothing I could do and Callie was still missing. I had to go after her. And then I came back for him. It's like he was catatonic or something. I had to pry her away from him. I couldn't get anything out of him. Then it hit the papers and he snapped. He quit. He didn't want any more blood on his paws."

Claire was torn between not wanting to hear it and feeling almost guilty for the hatred she'd harbored. "I... I didn't know..."

"There was no reason for you to know. Nobody knows what we go through. This whole city just sees what they want to see. Some are on our side. Others aren't. Normally, we can take the criticism in stride. But, as I said before, Razor is not violent. And he takes everything to heart."

Claire squeezed her eyes shut. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to be angry at the Swat Kats for her mother's death.

"Why was she in that building anyway?" T-Bone asked. It was a question that had plagued him since that night.

Claire puffed out a breath. "She was such a workaholic. I don't know her reason, but, if I had to guess, she was more worried about deadlines than the danger she was in." She looked down at the dirt in her paws. "Put my trust in strangers, huh? How do I know if I take that risk, that I won't get burned?"

"You don't." T-Bone shrugged. "But I have it on good authority that, if you play your cards right, that last job you had, the one you couldn't be bothered to go in for, they might be a little more forgiving than you think."

He walked back towards the cyclotron. "You can get home from here, can't you?"

She nodded.

"Take some time and think about what I said. I don't just go around making social calls trying to convince junkies to turn their lives around. And I wouldn't waste my time if I didn't think you could do it." T-Bone started the motorcycle. He was gone before she could respond.

* * *

It had been a week and a half, and Chance hadn't heard anything from Jake or Claire. He was worried, beyond worried even, about his friend. On top of that, he couldn't help this nagging feeling that he'd failed to get through to that kit. The phone in the office started ringing. The grease covered tabby sighed. It was so hard to focus on work. "MKC Salvage and repair," he droned.

"Chance?" An almost timid voice shook on the line.

"Jake?!" Chance felt his heart leap into his throat. "Christ, buddy. I've been worried sick! Are you alright?"

"I... I'm fine Chance... I just..." The almost unfamiliar voice shook. "There's so much I want to say... can you meet me somewhere?"

"Sure? Where? Anywhere you want." Chance twitched an ear, hearing a car pull into the yard.

"The park downtown... you know where they made that waterfall and stuff..."

"When?" He looked up, seeing Claire's rusted car jerk to a stop.

"Um..." Jake hesitated. "An hour?"

"Yeah, sure. You want me to bring anything? I can pick up some lunch and..."

"You don't have to do all that... I just want to talk..."

"Okay. I'll be there." Chance had to swallow back a lump forming in his throat. He'd never been more worried about anybody in his life. Jake was more than a friend, he was a brother. It was like part of him was gone.

"Thanks." Jake sounded relieved. "I... I have to go."

When Chance hung up and lifted his head, Claire was hovering in the doorway. She looked tired, exhausted even. "What are you doing here?"

"Look, I know I didn't exactly make a great first impression." Claire managed to keep her attitude in spite of how wiped out she looked. "And I'm sorry I'm such a slacker."

"Yeah well.. at least you come by it honestly." Chance crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his blue eyes at her. "You look like shit."

"Yeah well, it's been a rough week." She broke eye contact. "Here's the thing..." Claire's jaw twitched. "I know I screwed up and asking for my job back is one thing. Asking for a place to stay is totally different. But," she sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't really have anywhere else to go."

Chance felt the corners of his mouth twitch. "Okay." He sighed. "It just so happens that I have something I need to do and I could use someone to keep an eye on the shop while I'm gone." He rapped his knuckles on the office desk. "You hungry? I was going to make some lunch before I left?"

Claire smiled. "Famished," she replied.

* * *

Jake chewed nervously on one of his claws as he paced along the banks of the kat-made river in front of the kat-made waterfall. He looked at his watch for the twentieth time in thirty seconds. "Chill out," he told himself. "You told him an hour. He's still got ten minutes." Just as his teeth reached the quick, he felt a paw on his shoulder. Jake let out an embarrassing screech and jumped. "Chance!"

Chance pulled Jake into a tight hug. "Jesus, look at you." He said as he released his crushing hold on his friend. "You look... kind of better."

Jake laughed nervously. "Thanks."

"Oh, hey I brought some sandwiches." Chance held up a bag. "You look like you could use some food."

Jake motioned for Chance to follow him to a bench facing the waterfall. The slender tom sat down slowly, pulling his legs up and folding them underneath him in a way that made him look like he was made out of rubber. Chance sat next to him.

"So..." Jake started and then paused, unsure of where to start. "What have I missed?"

Chance let out a long breath. "Me firing Claire and then reaming her out." He smirked. "It was kind of fun actually. I got suited up and kat-napped her. I recorded the conversation I had with her if you want to hear it."

Jake shook his head. "I'm sorry I left you with that."

"Actually, I'm kind of glad you did." Chance shrugged. "Right after you called, she showed up. It was really weird, actually. Like some sort of cosmic event."

Jake rolled his eyes. "What have you been doing while I've been gone? Watching movies?"

"Nope." Chance put his paws on his knees. "She needs a place to stay. I think I'm going to let her."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Jake shot him an uneasy look.

"Not at all, but she needs someone she can trust."

Jake half smirked. "Well, she can definitely trust you."

"So are you going to tell me what's been going on?" Chance rested his arm on the back of the bench and turned himself sideways to look at Jake.

"Well... I haven't had anything to drink since I left." He flushed a little at the thought. "Of course this is the first time I've been outside in that period of time..."

"I'm proud of you, Jake." Chance said sincerely. "This takes a lot of guts and I don't know if I would've been able to do it."

Jake's ears flattened at the compliment. He didn't feel very brave. "Somehow, I doubt that." He frowned. "I can't even begin to tell you what the past week has been like."

"Week and a half." Chance corrected. "And that one day, watching you suffer like that... I mean, I can still see it."

Jake clenched his paws into fists to disguise the trembling. "Yeah..." he cut his eyes away from Chance. "That was nothing... and I'm really glad you didn't see how bad it got."

"I have an idea." Chance hated how weak Jake looked. "I looked into what you were doing, made a few phone calls... you know... researched it. And believe me when I say that I didn't hear anything that made me feel better about not knowing where you were or how to contact you."

Jake looked a little surprised. "I really didn't think you'd be that concerned."

"Yeah well, I was... and I am. So now what? Are you coming home?"

Jake halfway smiled. "It's not that simple."

"Of course not." Chance frowned. "Can I come see you? Or call you? Email? Smoke signals? Something so I'm not losing my mind?"  
Jake dug his paw into one of his pockets and pulled out a folded up sheet of paper. "Yes to the visiting, calling and emails. No to the smoke signals."

"Damn," Chance feigned disappointment. "So, what is this like a room phone or something?"

"Not quite." Jake made a face. "And there's sort of a time limit."

"Okay, time limit on the phone. But you can leave whenever you want as long as you come back?"

"Kind of." He bit his lip.

"Okay, Jake. Enough with the cryptic answers. Give me some intel here." Chance gave Jake a withering look.

Jake rolled up the sleeve of his gray hooded sweatshirt to reveal a bracelet around his wrist. It was made of cheap plastic but it had a bar-code on it. Printed before it were the words 'patient ID' and a few seemingly random numbers. "I have to check in and out. There's actually a curfew."

"How do they know you're not going to hit up the nearest bar?" Chance gave Jake a disbelieving look.

"They don't. But they thought of that ahead of time." Jake briefly looked at the ground. "Along with the Valium they started giving me when insomnia hit and I started hallucinating, they just recently started giving me something else... when I said I wanted to see you... I can't remember what it's called but I've been informed that I don't really want to drink while I'm on it. And I saw what happens when you do." He visibly shuddered.

"So they aren't relying on you to be honest, huh?" Chance tried to joke.

And Jake did chuckle. "To be truthful, if it wasn't for the fact that I knew I'd be in a world of hurt, that's probably what I would be doing right now." He had the decency to look embarrassed.

And Chance looked suitably hurt at the notion. "Well... I guess I knew this wouldn't be that easy."

"Yeah..." Jake bit his lip. "I just..." He hung his head. "Chance I...." The rusty furred tom shook his head. "I guess what I really wanted to say was that I'm sorry... for everything. For abandoning you... for every stupid thing I've done in the past five years."

"Jake, you don't have to..."  
"I'm not done," Jake held up a paw. "I know I said some of this in that note I left but I really wanted to say it to your face and I couldn't. And right now, I'm not steady. And my thoughts are shooting in a million different directions at once. And I don't know how I'm going to do this without the one kat I can trust not to repeat what I say and the one kat to whom I can say whatever is on my mind without being judged. And I don't want you to think that I'm not grateful because I am... and there's this part of me that keeps shouting that I've fucked things up so bad that I'm on my own here and that scares the shit out of me." He took a deep breath when he'd finished.

"Jake, I've come close so many times to being fed up. But we're brothers. We might have had two completely different families and come from completely different backgrounds, but 'friendship' doesn't even cover it. And if I walked out on you and left you to do this on your own, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I've never lied to you and I'm not going to start now. You did fuck things up. And, in typical 'Jake fashion' you didn't half ass it either. You just don't normally put that sort of effort into making mistakes."

"You're not doing a great job of making me feel better, Chance." Jake's shoulders slumped.

"I'm not trying to." Chance replied. "You wanted to talk. I let you talk. And I listened. And now that you've finally admitted that you have a problem and you're getting help for it, and now that I know you're listening, I'm telling you exactly how I feel. I know this is hard. This is probably the hardest thing you've ever done. And I can tell you feel like shit. You _look_ like shit. You look like you haven't eaten in months. But your eyes are clearer than they've been in a long time. I have no doubt in my mind that you can do this. In fact, I expect you to do it. And if I have to be here every day to make sure you do, then I will."

Jake narrowed his eyes in an attempt to force the stinging sensation back down. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Yeah well, you're welcome." Chance tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "So are you up for some lunch or what?"

"Sure," Jake looked up. It was evident that he wasn't really hungry. But he wasn't anxious to leave his friend yet.

* * *

When Chance returned to the salvage yard, he found Claire asleep on the ratty couch in the waiting area. She was sprawled on her stomach with one of her arms hanging off, her paw grazing the floor. Chance chuckled softly as he thought about how many times he and Jake have caught naps on that couch during times of slow business. He grabbed a piece of paper off the desk, balled it up and threw it at her.

Claire made a soft startled noise as her eyes popped open.

"Time to wake up, kit." Chance smirked.

"Not a kit," she replied sullenly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with the back of one of her paws.

"Okay," he chuckled. "You're not doing anything to sway my opinion. Come on, we need to figure out a game plan for you."

"A game plan?"

"Yeah. You know, a plan of action." Chance sat next to her on the couch. "You might notice I'm sans an employee."

"Yeah. I did notice. What happened to Jake?"

"He's getting help." He studied her. "That's not something you need to think about doing, is it?"

Claire blushed. "I'm not a junkie."

"Famous last words."  
"I'm really not. I just..."

"Like the way it feels?" He looked disbelieving.

"As a matter of fact, yes." Claire shot back. "I can get by just fine without it. I haven't touched anything in a week. Because I don't want to. Not because I can't afford it. I know how to get it without money."

"And I don't want to know how you manage that." Chance cocked his head to the side. "Tell me something, Claire. Is this what you want to do with your life?"  
"Fix cars?"

"No. Bounce from job to job and live from paycheck to paycheck."

"Don't you live from paycheck to paycheck?"

"Yes. But the circumstances are different. Jake and I did have a career. We're here paying for someone else's mistake. But you? Why are you here?"

"Because your drunk friend was listening to my problems at a bar." Claire replied.

"Seriously."

She sighed. "I really don't know why I'm here. I stopped caring why I end up where I end up a long time ago."

"Well, no offense to you, but I don't really want someone that can hot wire a car in her sleep really fixing other kats' cars. It worries me." Chance confessed.

"So I guess that means I should hit the road, huh?"

"I didn't say I wanted you to leave. I just said I didn't want you working on cars."

"Then what am I supposed to do? You don't exactly need a secretary. This place doesn't get _that _much business."

"Did you finish high school, Claire?"

"Of course I finished high school." She scoffed. "I only had one year left when my mom was killed."

"Good." Chance said. "Then fill out the financial aid stuff. Go to school. You can stay here as long as you need as long as you're doing that."

"Same rules apply? Don't ask, don't tell?"  
Chance winced. "It's not like that."

"It seemed like a good way to put it." Claire smirked.

"Come on," he shook his head at her. "Let's get your stuff and figure out where you're sleeping." Chance followed her to the car, expecting it to be packed full of things. When she simply pulled a backpack out of the passenger seat and walked away, he tilted his head questioningly.

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"Well that makes this easier, I guess." Chance led her inside. "Home, sweet home. I think what I'll do is move Jake's stuff into my room. There was a bed here when we moved in but we put it in storage since we had our own furniture. I'll pull it out and you can have that. How's that sound?"

"You sure Jake won't mind having to share a room when he comes back?"

"I talked to him today. He knows you're going to be staying here. And I think I'll be more comfortable knowing I can keep an eye on him, anyway."

"You really care about him, huh?"  
Chance smiled sadly. "Jake and I have had each others backs through a lot of shit. He's like my screwed up little brother. If I didn't look out for him, nobody would. Clearly not himself."

* * *


	5. quittance

_**Took a little later to get this chapter out. I rewrote it four times before I was finally comfortable with it. NK**_

Jake sat cross-legged on his bed with a book laying open in front of him. His eyes were narrowed at the small print and his paws were flat on his thighs. There was a sharp knock on the door and he looked up quickly, a smile spreading across his face. "Hey Chance."

Chance leaned against the door frame, taking a moment to study his friend. It was Wednesday. That meant it was the day he visited Jake. The tabby's eyes constricted. "Are you reading the Bible?"

Jake flushed. "If I am?"

"It's just that... well, weren't you the one that called it 'fiction'?"

"And I haven't changed my opinion. But I didn't have anything better to do." Jake marked his place and slid backwards, giving Chance room to sit.

"I heard you weren't feeling well from the she-kat at the desk." Chance squeezed his shoulder as he sat down.  
"Yeah..." Jake fidgeted with a hole in his jeans. "How's Claire?"

"She's still getting her financial aid set up. If everything works out, she should be starting classes in January." Chance picked up the heavy leather bound book and slid so that he was facing Jake. "What's wrong? You really sick?"

Jake shrugged. "I'm not sick, Chance. I just... haven't been feeling so great. Apparently that translates into 'life threatening illness.'"

"Well what is it?" Chance pulled a leg up so that one of his feet was on the bed.

"I'm really not feeling very talkative today, Chance." Jake fought to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"Do you wanna get out of here for a little bit?" Chance was learning to adapt to Jake's ever-changing moods. Some days, Jake was thrilled to hear from him and would talk his ear off. Other times, he would tell Alisha, the receptionist, to tell him that he wasn't able to come to the phone. It was when Chance came in to visit, however, that Jake couldn't run and hide. The last visits had been fine. Today was an exception. Jake sounded grumpy and stressed. And he looked tired.

"You want me to just leave you alone today?" Chance tried not to sound hurt.

Jake studied him for a minute. "Yeah. I think I do."

"Alright. I'll... uh... I'll just call you later and check on you." Chance stood up, giving Jake's shoulder one last squeeze before leaving the room.

On his way out, he passed the counselor.

"Hey Chance," Dr. Chartreuse smiled brightly. "You coming or going?"

"Going, apparently." Chance frowned. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." The doctor was still smiling. "Would you like to step into my office?"

Chance looked hesitant. "Yeah."

The petite male doctor led Chance down the hall and into a small room with a cluttered desk. "Not exactly a room with a view," he chuckled. "We have sort of a small budget."

Chance sat down in one of the hard plastic chairs.

"What's on your mind, Chance?"

"What's going on with Jake?"

The doctor frowned. "You know that I can't discuss details."

"I know. I know. It's just that... well the last few times I've called, he hasn't wanted to talk and then today... it just seemed like he was doing alright. Alisha said he wasn't feeling well. But he says he's not sick. Can you just give me a clue here so I don't feel like I'm doing something wrong?"

"I can't discuss what Jake discusses with me." Dr. Chartreuse sighed. "But I can tell you that this past week hasn't exactly been the greatest." He used the time at his desk as a reason to straighten some files. "Jake had a minor relapse over the weekend."

"A minor relapse?" Chance narrowed his eyes. "I thought he was on something to keep him from relapsing."

"Disulfiram doesn't stop a kat from having a relapse. It punishes them for it." Dr. Chartreuse looked mildly sympathetic. "It's a drug that pretty much induces a long lasting, very painful hangover when alcohol is ingested."

Chance was reeling from the shock. "I don't understand. He was doing so well."

"A lot of kats don't like it when we say this, but relapse is a part of rehabilitation. Jake holds many secrets. Whatever his reasons for drinking are, I can't tell you. And even if I could, I wouldn't be able to because he can't tell me. He needs to confront whatever it is that's pulling him down so that he can let it go and move on with his life."

Chance felt a small twinge of guilt. It must of shown on his face because the counselor gave him a questioning look.

"I don't suppose you would be able to tell me how to get through to him, would you?"

Chance winced. "He... he blames himself for something that wasn't his fault. It's really not my place to talk about it." He sighed. "If I could get him to just talk to me, I might be able to work something out so that he doesn't have to, you know feel like he's betraying someone's trust and, at the same time, confront the kat he hurt."

Dr. Chartreuse shook his head. "I swear, you two have to be the most cryptic kats I've ever met." He stood up. "Give him a couple of days. Let him have some space, some time to think. Then try to talk to him. Alright?"

"Yeah." Chance frowned, pushing himself out of the chair. "Thanks, Doc."

* * *

Claire slipped the small container back into her pocket and wiped her nose when she heard the truck pulling in. It was cold outside, so the bay doors were shut. There wasn't anything to do and the uppers had her in a frenzy.

Chance paused in the doorway. He'd never seen the shop so clean. "Holy... wow... you did all this in an hour?"

Claire shrugged and ran a paw through her messy hair to disguise the shaking. "You know what they say, 'clean house for a clean mind.'"

Chance shook his head. "I brought some lunch." He held up a bag with greasy spots on it.

Claire made a face. "How many times have I told you that I don't eat meat?"

"Chill." Chance pulled out a couple of burgers. "I got you some fries and a salad." He handed her the bag. "Hey, if you're done down here, you could get the rest of the house."

"Bite me," she hissed. "Quit being such a slob."

* * *

Jake sat with his ears flat against his head, staring at the blank wall of the room he shared with another kat. Chauncey was rarely in the room. He spent most of his time in the common area with his guitar. A college kit who'd become addicted to the party lifestyle. The she-kats that worked at the clinic adored him. Jake fought the urge to block the door so that the bratty nineteen year old couldn't return. There was a soft knock on the door just before it opened. Jake narrowed his eyes at the smallish doctor.

"I was on my way out," Dr. Chartreuse leaned against the wall. "I wanted to check on you before I left."

Jake sighed. "And I'm still here. You can go now."

"I spoke to Chance earlier today."

"In that case, I'm surprised he didn't come back by to lecture me on my mistakes." Jake grumbled.

"I hardly believe he'd lecture you. And, if it matters, I suggested he give you a little room to breathe before he assaulted you."

"Gee... thanks." Jake crossed his arms.

"You should count yourself lucky to have a friend that cares so much." The doctor reprimanded. "I think that, when he talks to you again, you should really listen to what he says."

Jake didn't reply.

Dr. Chartreuse sighed loudly. "I will see you tomorrow, Jake." And he left.

* * *

Chance followed the doctor's suggestion and left Jake alone for the remainder of the week and the weekend. On Monday afternoon, he showed up with a pizza and a six pack of milk only to learn that Jake wasn't there. "Do you know where he went?" He asked Alisha, flashing her his most disarming smile.

She flushed. "When he signed out, he said he was going for a walk. Aside from that, I don't know."

"Thanks." Chance took the peace offering back out to the truck and backed out of the parking lot.

* * *

Jake felt the cold wind brush over him as he lay flat on his back on the wreckage from the mill where they'd built the park. It was the original reason for the kat-made river and waterfall, to power the mill a hundred years ago. Now, all that remained of the structure was the crumbling foundation on the banks of the rapidly moving water. He sighed and closed his eyes against the gray afternoon sky and hoped it would start raining. The smell of pizza reached his nose before the heavy sounds of Chance's footsteps.

"You know, you kind of ruin this whole 'peace and quiet' thing." He said softly.

"And you make it really hard to bring you lunch." Chance replied, cautiously climbing up onto the wall beside Jake.

"You could've called an hour ago. I would have told you not to bother."

Chance ignored the defeated tone. "Heard about what happened. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope," Jake replied, not moving even as the smell of Norelli's finest assaulted his nose.

"Look, why don't you just talk to Claire about what happened?" Chance finally just blurted out. "I could set it up, send her out to pick up some parts or something and Razor could be there and..."

"Chance..." Jake cut him off. "I'm not even going to waste my time."

"Okay... so let me get this straight. You'll waste five years of your life wallowing in self pity because you can't find the she-kat who you blame yourself for hurting only to find her and not have the guts to actually talk to her?" Chance scoffed. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, Jake."

"Yeah, well, you thought wrong."

"Apparently. Because you're acting like an idiot."

"Yep."

Chance looked over the edge of the wall. They weren't that far up. If he pushed Jake into the water, it wasn't likely he'd be hurt. The current would pull him a little but it was too shallow for him to be pulled under.

"What are you afraid of, Jake?" Chance narrowed his eyes. Jake's own snapped open.

"Who said I was afraid?"

"I can't think of any other reason you wouldn't want a chance to tell Claire that you didn't mean to kill her mother."

Jake shot Chance an icy glare. "Tell me something, Chance. How would you feel if someone murdered your mom and then just showed up one day to apologize?"

"You didn't murder anyone, Jake. It was an accident."

"And I'm sure she'll see it that way." Jake replied sarcastically.

"Hey, in case you've forgotten, T-Bone has already talked to her. She knows it was an accident." Chance pointed at himself as he referred to his alter-ego. "You need the closure."

Jake snorted. "And you've been spending too much time at the clinic."

"Maybe," he conceded. "But I'm not gullible. I don't fall for that psycho-babble crap that easy."

Jake squeezed his eyes shut. "I really don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Fine," Chance snapped. "But sooner or later, you're gonna have to do this." He got up. "I'm going back to work. When you grow a pair, call me." He left the remaining food at Jake's feet.

Jake let out an unsteady breath as his friend walked away.

* * *

"Shit,"Claire cursed softly.

Chance looked up from Callie's sedan. "What?"  
"Nothing," she replied, brushing past him and darting up the stairs, her paw covering her nose and mouth.

Quietly setting down his wrench, he followed her up the stairs.

Claire was too busy trying to stop the sudden nose bleed to notice Chance staring at her.

"I thought we had a deal."

She jumped. "I don't remember promising not to get nose bleeds."

"I'm not stupid, Claire." Chance glared. "I..." The house phone started ringing. He pointed at her. "I'm not finished."

"Hello?"

"Chance?"

It had been two days since his talk with Jake in the park. He sounded sick.

"You okay, buddy?"

"No," Jake whimpered.

Chance shot Claire a look as he walked out of the kitchen to make the conversation more private. "You're not really putting a whole lot of effort into this whole 'rehab' thing." He snipped knowingly.

"I know, I know... I just..." Jake blew out a breath. "Damn it, Chance. It just fucking pisses me off when you're right and you throw it in my face like that."

"I didn't throw anything in your face," Chance sighed.

"Yeah. You did. Not in a menacing way, but you still did." Jake spat. "And I've thought about it."

"And drank over it," Chance added.

"Yeah, that too." Jake replied. "And... I just... ugh." He growled. "I heard what you said. And you're right. I need to do it and I'm scared out of my mind."

"You just give me the when, buddy and I'll set it up for you." Chance tried to keep from sounding too ecstatic.

Jake made a hiccuping sound and groaned. "Well... today's definitely not good."

Chance let himself chuckle. "I don't know. The whole belligerent drunk could work in your favor."

Jake didn't respond.

"Like I said, just call me and let me know when you want to do this, Jake."

"Okay," Jake replied quietly. "Look, I... I gotta go... I'll..."

"Call me later? Yeah. Bye Jake." Chance waited for Jake to acknowledge that the call was over before he hung up and went back out to deal with Claire.

_**Don't own anything... etc.**_

_**NK  
**_


	6. vindication

_**On the twelfth day, the gods did decree that there shall be a sixth chapter. And a sixth chapter there was. And, lo, the angels burst into song. And the drunks poured more shots. And the author, incapable of writing anything entirely original, drowned her lack of self-worth in a bottle of Black Velvet. But the gods forgave the author because she was born with a blood-alcohol level. The kids can't help what they're born to do. Unless they write fan fiction, in which case they make the stars of their favorite shows do all the bad things for them.**_

_**NK  
**_

"You should grab your biker jacket while you're here," Chance shot Jake a concerned look as the smaller kat shoved his paws into his pockets to keep them warm. Jake shook his head and climbed out of the truck.

"You're really kind of a she-kat sometimes, Chance." Jake teased, pausing outside the door. It felt strange being home, even if it was only for a few hours.

"You going inside? Or were you planning on staying out here in the cold all day?" Chance teased, putting a reassuring paw on Jake's shoulder.

Claire looked up from the remedial work Chance was making her do. "Lo, the psycho-kat returns from his asylum," she teased.

Jake merely studied her for a few seconds and then silently went up the stairs. "How's this working out? I've seen the news. You've been a busy kat."

Chance closed the door behind him. "Honestly? She's either completely oblivious or really disinterested, I haven't decided which one yet. You ready to do this?"

Jake shot him an uneasy look. "Not entirely."

"Where do you want to meet her?"

Jake let out a sigh. It had to be somewhere secluded. A chill ran down his spine as he thought about a place nobody ever goes to. And it would give him plenty of time to get there before she did. He grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down an address.

Chance took the paper, his eyes narrowing in surprise. "You sure about that, bud?"

Jake nodded silently.

"You make the call." Chance handed Jake the cordless house phone and he poised his own paw above the business line that led up to the kitchen.

* * *

Claire paused as the shop phone rang. She started to answer it but by the time she got to it, the ringing had ceased. Chance must have picked it up in the house. She shrugged and went back to work. Just as she got back to stripping down a totaled Mercedes of anything still usable, Chance came down the stairs.

"Hey Claire? You mind taking a call for me? I'd do it but Jake's here."

Claire shot him an annoyed look, then sighed. "Fine." She slammed her paw down on the car.

"I owe you one."

"You bet your tail you do." She glared and got the keys. "Where am I going?"

Chance handed her the address. "Said his car wouldn't start. You know where to go?"

"Not really..." Claire studied the address. Chance explained how to get there, wondering if he should gear up and follow Razor, just in case.

* * *

Razor held his breath as he barreled down the dirt road out into the middle of nowhere. He hadn't been down this road in years. Not since joining the academy. As he slowed to a stop in front of the charred remains of a home, he heard a deafening roar over his head. Razor looked up as the Turbokat disappeared behind the ruins, landing in an overgrown, abandoned farm field, vanishing from his line of sight. He rested the cyclotron beside the remains of the house and ghosted a paw over a charred, dangling shutter.

"I can't believe it's been ten years." T-Bone walked up beside his partner.

Razor swallowed against the tight feeling burning in his throat. "I... I hear the truck. You should probably... you know..."

T-Bone patted him on the shoulder and walked away.

* * *

Claire put the truck in park and stared out the window at the burned down house. "Didn't he say to take a left?" She got out of the truck and pulled paper with the directions out of her pocket. "This has got to be a joke. Nobody lives here." She chuckled. "You know what," she said out loud. "Fuck this." Claire reached inside her pocket for the little container she kept the powder in. Just as she was about to open the lid, a gloved paw grabbed her shoulder.

"Son of a bitch!" Claire jerked away, turning around simultaneously. Her eyes widened as she took in the vigilante, looking just as startled from her outburst. Her shock turned to malice. "What the fuck do you want?"

"We need to talk."

"I already talked to your friend. I have nothing to say to you!" She started to reach for the truck door but he moved in front of it.

"Please," Razor practically whispered. "Just hear me out, okay?"

Claire crossed her arms over her chest and glared.

"I don't know what T-Bone told you, but I'm sure it was the truth." Razor fought the urge to look at the ground. It was a struggle to maintain eye contact. "What happened to your mother," he licked his lips. "I... I didn't mean for it to happen. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Claire chuckled. "You're _sorry._" She shook her head and threw her paws up. "Five years of misery and that's all you have to say is that you're fucking sorry? What did you think that would do? Bring her back?"  
"No," Razor defended. "I just..."

"You just what? You can't fix this."

"I know that, but I..."

"Let me guess? For years you've been beating yourself up over this, and now," She couldn't seem to stop the laughter. "You want absolution."

"You have to believe that it was an accident." Razor clenched his fists. He wasn't armed, unless you counted the Cyclotron.

"She's dead! Accident or not, she's dead and your stupid apologies can't change it!" Claire spat in his face.

Razor clenched his jaw as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "Don't you think I know that?" He growled. "You think you're alone in this? I am _not_ a violent kat!"

"You're obviously a coward!" Claire replied sharply. "What have you been doing the past five years? Watching to see what I did? Waiting for me to fuck up my life so you'd have a reason to feel sorry for it?"

"I didn't even know where to find you until now!" Razor shouted. "I can't imagine what this has done to you," he softened. "And you don't have a clue what it's done to me." He shook his head. "You wanna know what I've been doing for the past five years? I've been drowning, that's what! Don't you think that if I could give my life to bring her back, I would? I've been over it a hundred thousand times."

"I'm sure you have," Claire turned her back on him so that he wouldn't see her eyes cloud with tears. "She was just a stranger to you. How could you possibly understand my pain?"

Razor squeezed his eyes shut. "You aren't the only kat to ever lose your mother." He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and twitched his ear, listening for any sound of T-Bone. Claire didn't respond. "And don't you think she'd be upset to see you now? You're carrying an eight ball on you right now. I know that much."

"Fuck you," she turned back around. "Maybe you know how it feels to lose your mom, but you don't know what it feels like to find out she got her head chopped off in a freak accident!"  
"And that's exactly what it was!" Razor snapped. "A freak fucking accident! I don't know what else to say to you! I'm trying my damnedest to fix this, to move past it so that I can move on! And you just want to use every excuse you can find to lay around, stoned out of your mind all day!" His voice cracked. "You don't see it, but we're both the same!"

"We're not the fucking same!" Claire's hurt also broke through her voice.

"How many times have you looked at what you were doing to yourself and wondered how much more you had to do to end it?" Razor's whispered darkly.

"You're fucking crazy," she turned away.

"How many times, Claire? How many times have you ran what happened that day through your head and thrown in different 'what if' scenarios? Things that could've happened to fix it? Why didn't I use a different weapon? Why didn't I fire just a little bit later or a little bit sooner? Why wasn't I there? Why couldn't I save them?" He clamped his mouth shut, realizing his brain was starting to go into a different direction. "... her?" He corrected.

"Why couldn't I stop her?" Claire repeated. "I was at school!" She shouted. "I was doing what I was supposed to be doing! If she wasn't such a damn workaholic, she would've evacuated like everyone else!"

Razor shook his head and slid down the side of the truck until he was sitting in the dirt.

"You okay, buddy?" T-Bone's voice buzzed quietly in his ear. He sounded confused.

"And I was doing what I was supposed to be doing." Razor whispered. "Trying to save the fucking city." He shook his head. "Who am I kidding?" He snorted as something his mother had said to him once, when he was a kitten. "Anyone will listen to reason when they're face down in the dirt."

"You really are nuts, aren't you?" Claire took a step backwards. "I mean, your friend, he said you lost it, but you're not even making sense."

Razor could barely feel his claws sinking into his palms. "You're just not listening. T-Bone said he thought he got through to you, but you play a good game. And your mask is almost harder to see through than mine." His voice was low and raw. "He gave you a chance, an opening. And you're walking on him. And the only reason he hasn't called you on it is because he's trying to fix me. Do you think any of your friends, any of your... your dealers would do that for you? This isn't the first time he's had to hold me back when I had one foot over the ledge. But you... you're practically tap dancing on it, daring yourself to fall."

"You tried, Razor." T-Bone buzzed in his ear again. "I'm coming out."

Razor retracted his claws, feeling the blood soak through his gloves. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm just... I'm sorry."

Claire looked from Razor to T-Bone as he walked around the truck. "What are you doing here?"

"I wasn't going to let him do this without back up." He looked down at his friend. "You don't see how hard this is for him? If you can't, then you're blind."

Claire looked away. She knew she was being unreasonable, but here she was, face to face with the kat that had, whether wittingly or not, taken her mother's life. "What do you want me to do? Forgive him? I can't save him!"

T-Bone sighed. "I'm not so blind as to see that this isn't the only thing eating at him. But hearing him talk to you today has cleared a lot up for me. He hasn't said that much to me in one sitting since this happened. You, however, are missing a lot here. You have no idea how much you both have in common and how badly he thinks you're the one that needs to be saved."

"Alright," Claire folded her arms across her chest. "Tell me, Swat Kat. What exactly do we have in common? Besides this fucking mess?"

"You see this lovely barbecued house behind me?" T-Bone pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Razor's parents were in there when it burned down. And, strangely enough, what was left after they put the flames out is buried just a few plots down from your mother."

Razor made a strangled, muffled sound behind him.

"When he says he knows what tragedy feels like, he ain't lying." T-Bone kept his voice even. "When I met him, I made it my personal duty to protect him. And I pushed him through it. Clearly, I pushed him a little harder than I should have because I was under the impression that he was past it, but I still got him through it. And I'll be damned if I don't get him through this! He wanted to do this a long time ago but he couldn't find you. And then when he did, he was already too fucked up to bring himself to do it. Now he's face down in the dirt, like he said, and he's doing what he should've done and the only thing he can think of to get back up and you're acting like he should just be executed right here."

Claire sighed. "I can't exactly just walk away from this, you know. It's not that easy." She looked at the Swat Kats. T-Bone was strong and held together while Razor was beyond falling apart. "Christ," she muttered. "And to think we rely on you to save the city."

Razor visibly winced.

"No, you don't." T-Bone corrected. "In spite of everything, he's responsible enough to know when his mind isn't in the right place to fight. I'd kind of like to have him back, though." He pointed at Claire. "And I really don't think that's going to happen until you make some changes because he's just going to keep beating himself up over it."

Claire was visibly flustered.

"Come on, Razor." T-Bone turned and held out his paw. Razor shot him a gracious look as he grasped the extended appendage and pulled himself to his feet.

Claire stood rooted to the ground until the Turbokat lifted into the air and was gone. Snarling with anger, she slammed her fist into the door of the truck and sank to her knees and cried.

* * *

Jake silently followed Chance back up the stairs, nearly running into him when he stopped suddenly and turned around. He looked up, meeting his friend's concerned blue eyes.

"How do you feel?" Chance gently gripped his arms.

"Chance, I..." Jake trailed off and looked away. "Thanks." He sounded strained. "I know I've been saying that a lot lately. But I've been thinking a lot about... well not just this whole Claire thing and sometimes I don't even know why I'm still here."

"Jake," Chance gave him a stern look that quickly dissolved into concern as he pulled Jake into a tight brotherly hug. "Please stop talking like that."

Jake returned the embrace just until he felt the edges of his restraint start to fray. Then he pulled himself away. "I.. uh," he cleared his throat. "Would you mind if I caught a nap before Claire gets back and I have to, you know, leave again?"

Chance could hear the silent plea to be left alone and nodded. "Just, you know, remember that your stuff is in my room."

Jake nodded and walked down the hall.

Claire returned an hour later, her eyes puffy and red and her fur a mess. "Whoa..." Chance blinked. "What happened to you?"

"From now on, you're going on wild goose chases for broke down cars that aren't even really there." She dropped the keys to the tow truck in his paw and dug her own out of her pocket. "I'm going out."

"Hey what's got into you?" Chance feigned ignorance.

"I don't want to talk about it," she snarled and slammed the door on her way out.

He looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. He needed to get Jake back before he broke curfew.

Chance knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open. He expected Jake to really be awake, so he was a little shocked to find his friend sprawled out on his stomach across his bed. Chance shook his head and started to get him some warmer clothes out of the closet. First and foremost, he dug out the heavy black biker jacket. Then he spotted an old duffel bag on the floor near their shoes, and pulled that out as well.

"Jake," Chance knelt in front of him and shook him gently. "You're gonna be late."

A pair of exhausted amber eyes opened slowly and fixed him with a lost expression. "Late for what?"

"Getting back to the clinic..."

"Oh..." Jake closed his eyes. Then reopened them sharply. "Shit!" He hadn't actually meant to fall asleep.

Chance held up the bag he'd packed and the fleece lined coat. "Come on, sleeping beauty. Before you turn into a pumpkin."

Jake shook his head and took the coat. "I think you got your fairy tale wires crossed."

"Whatever," Chance shrugged. "You wanna grab some burgers on the way?"

"Now that you mention it," Jake smirked. "I am kind of hungry."

Chance paused mid-step. "Seriously? I was expecting to have to beg you to eat something like always."

"I'll save that for the next time, when I don't feel like I'm starving to death."

"I thought you said you were only 'kind of hungry'." Chance returned the smirk.

Jake shrugged. "Aren't they the same thing?"

Chance shook his head and locked the door behind them.


	7. mercy

Had a change of heart on where I was going.

* * *

Claire looked around the table in the back of the club. Her friends and acquaintances laughing loudly, their heads spinning and blurring. The music pounded in her ears, or maybe that was her heart.

When she'd found Joe and Lynn and said she needed to get out and forget some stuff, they'd dragged her to the club Lynn danced at. Fritz, the owner, told Claire he'd give her free drinks all night if she filled in for one of the she-kats. She even got to keep half her tips. Claire did her set, knocked back several shots, did a few lines off the toilet seat, and did a few more rounds. She tilted her head and looked at Lynn. "This job is cake," she slurred.

"You wanna try something new, Claire?" Lynn smiled deviously. "Something that'll have your blood really pumping?"

"Is it gonna make me forget about the day I had?" She leaned clumsily onto the table.

"You betcha," Lynn held out a tab. "Put this on your tongue and let it dissolve."

Claire stuck out her tongue and Lynn giggled as she placed it on her tongue. It wasn't long before Claire felt it. Her pulse quickened and the temperature in the room sky rocketed. She rolled her head to face Lynn and Joe and she licked her lips. "You're both so hot," she mumbled. "I bet you taste like skittles."

Lynn looked at Joe and smiled. "Skittles?"

"I don't taste like skittles do I?" Joe's pupils were fully dilated.

Lynn kissed her, plunging her tongue into her friend's mouth. She pulled away and, licking her lips leaned over to Claire. "Joe definitely doesn't taste like skittles."

Claire felt her heart racing faster. "I gotta get out of these clothes," she squirmed out of the booth and staggered to the door.

Lynn pulled Joe. "Come on. We should enjoy this while it lasts." They followed the she-kat outside.

"Where you going, Claire?" Joe rounded on her. "Don't you wanna have some fun with us?"

Claire backed away. "I can't..." she gripped the sides of her head.

"Come on, baby," Lynn purred, taking Claire's arm. "You'll feel much better if you play with us."

Claire felt dizzy as she was pulled back inside and into a VIP room. The door was locked and she was pushed down onto the floor.

Claire could feel their paws on her, under her shirt and between her legs. But her vision was blurry and she couldn't make out what they were saying over the loud roaring in her ears.

* * *

T-Bone had gone out on patrol after he took Jake back to the clinic. Claire hadn't come home and he needed to blow off some steam. What better way to do that than expertly piloting a powerful jet above the city?

The night was quiet and the Enforcer band radio was practically silent except for the mundane chatter of the dispatcher and a few Enforcers on patrol themselves.

"What's going on at Kitty Bang Bang tonight?" And Enforcer asked. "There's an ambulance there. One of the strippers slip and hit her head again?"

"Are you nearby, Sgt. Hinkle?" The dispatcher asked. "I'm hearing about a possible drug overdose. They want an Enforcer on the scene."

On any other night, T-Bone wouldn't have cared about the actions of strippers. But for some reason, he couldn't pull his ears away from the broadcast.

"We got three she-kats involved. Jocelyn Coon, 24 years of age and Melinda Foxtail, 27 years of age with possession of cocaine and methamphetamine. Both are being taken into custody. And Claire Forgeron, 21, being taken to MKC Regional. She is suffering a severe drug overdose."

T-Bone felt his blood run cold and he turned the jet around. "I've got half a mind to leave her there." He said out loud.

* * *

Claire felt herself slipping and she reached out to hold on. She could see herself on the table with doctors and other hospital staff members around her, hooking up lines and injecting her with stuff she couldn't pronounce. There was a loud screaming sound coming from one of the machines and they started talking about a defibrillator. "What is that noise?!" Claire pushed her paws over her ears.

"You're dying."

She spun around, her eyes widening. "Mom?!"

Tessa looked down sadly and reached for her daughter's paws. "Why, Claire? Why do this to yourself?"

"Maman," Claire whimpered. "Je vous manque. I miss you." Tears spilled out of her brown eyes.

"Je vous manque aussi," Tessa replied softly. "But you are doing terrible, terrible things, mon enfant. Do you really wish to die so badly that you would do it so painfully?"

"It's not fair," Claire sobbed. "It's not fair that they took you away! I was a good kitten! Bad stuff isn't supposed to happen to good kittens!"

"Bad stuff happens to everyone, no matter how bad or good they are." Tessa brushed a strand of hair out of her daughter's face. "And you are not alone, enfant. Come. I will show you."

Claire gasped as she was pulled through the walls and floors.

"I'm looking for Claire Forgeron." Chance asked the she-kat at the desk.

"Are you family?"

Chance made a face. "Not exactly, but..."

"Sorry, sweetie. I can't disclose information to anyone but family."

"But she doesn't have anyone else," Chance pleaded.

"Sorry, but..."

"Look," Chance reasoned. "I know you have rules. I know she was brought here. I know the wheres and the whys. I just want to make sure she's alright. I'll wait out here. Anything, I just, I can't leave here without knowing if she'll be alright."

"But maman, why does he care?" Claire looked confused. "He barely knows me!"

"Some kats care without having a reason." Tessa tilted her kitten's chin up. "Some do good for the sake of doing good and no other reason." She wiped away a tear with her claw. "I don't want this for you. You have a second chance at your claws. Take it, chaton. And do not squander it."

"But maman, wait!" Claire felt her slipping away. "WAIT!" She felt cold as she was sucked back through the walls and into the ER and into her body.

"We've got a pulse!" One of the orderlies shouted. "It's strong!"

* * *

"Hey Chance," Alisha blushed as she smiled at the handsome tabby. "You can go on through, the doors unlocked."

"Thanks, Alisha." Chance returned the smile, causing the receptionist's blush to deepen. The clinic resembled a mental institution more than a rehab facility. In a sense, it kind of was an institution in disguise. He walked down the sterile hallway, his feet echoing off the walls. Chance knocked softly on the door to the room Jake shared with a college kit that reminded him a lot of Claire.

"What you want, doc?" Chauncey shouted loudly.

Chance opened the door.

"Oh. It's you." Chauncey rolled his eyes and went back to playing his guitar.

Chance rolled his eyes and looked at Jake, who was curled up completely underneath the blankets on his bed. "Jake?"  
"Huh?" A voice rasped from underneath it.

"You alright?"

"No. He's not alright." Chauncey broke in. "He's been hacking up fur-balls all morning. I wouldn't even be here if they weren't having some stupid seminar in the conference room."

Chance shot the teen an annoyed look before pulling the blanket back. "You feel like going for a ride?"

"Where?" Jake's voice came out in a squeak.

"To see Claire. She's in the hospital."

Jake coughed loudly and pushed himself up. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you on the way." Chance eyed Jake's messy hair and rumpled sweats. "I'll... just wait for you outside."

* * *

"Do you know what she OD'd on?" Jake wheezed.

Chance narrowed his eyes as he recalled the broadcast. "Her friends were busted with possession of cocaine and meth." He sighed. "I didn't hear if she had anything on her, just that she was being taken to the hospital. I tried to see her but they wouldn't let me in. She's stable now, and the receptionist said she was allowed visitors."

Jake let out a loud barking cough, then cleared his throat. "Ugh."

"You okay? You were fine yesterday." Chance looked concerned.

"Yeah," Jake shook his head. "I dunno. I just woke up feeling like shit."

Chance shot him a disgusted look as he sniffed loudly, drawing up mucus in his throat. Jake rolled down the window and spat outside, then cleared his throat again.

"What?" The smaller kat rasped.

"Just wondering if I should leave you at the hospital." Chance maintained his disgusted look.

For the sake of his sore throat, Jake rode the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

Claire was asleep when they entered her room. Chance hovered over her bed, taking in her pallor through her brown fur. Jake, clearing his throat loudly, walked to the end of her bed and picked up her chart.

"Methylene-dioxy-meth-amphetamine," he sounded out quietly. "What the heck is that?"

"Methylenedioxymethamphetamine is a psychoactive amphetamine drug entacogenic, psychedelic, and stimulant effects."

Both kats were startled by the voice behind them.

"MDMA... or more commonly called 'x'." The doctor, a middle-aged kat, leaned against the door frame. "Friends of Miss Forgeron?"

"Yeah," Chance said. "But not the ones that let her get this messed up."

"She's a lucky she-kat," the doctor said. "She died on the table."

Jake's eyes widened. "She _died_?" His voice cracked.

"Indeed, squeaky. But she's better now, sort of." The doctor nodded his head towards her still form. "We won't know if she suffered any long term effects until she wakes up." With that, he left.

"He's kind of a jerk," Jake whispered and dropped tiredly into a chair beside her bed. "Let me know when our party girl wakes up." He slouched down in the chair and let his head fall softly against the wall. He shivered. "Why do they keep it so cold in hospitals?"

"To slow the growth of bacteria," Chance said automatically.

Jake cracked open an eye, shooting him an interested look.

"What? You know my mom was a nurse until my dad's jet went down." Chance defended.

Jake coughed as he shook his head.

"I'm gonna go grab a snack from the vending machine. You want anything? I can see if I can find you something for your cough."

Jake snorted, then dissolved into a coughing fit. "Do you want to get me admitted?"

Chance gave him a blank look.

"Just check the label," Jake made a face as he tried to swallow. "If they have something that has absolutely no alcohol in it at all, then you can get it."

"Ah," Chance looked a little sheepish. "I forgot about that. I'll be back."

Jake felt his eyes slipping shut before Chance was even out the door. His head fell sideways as he drifted off. A small moan drew him back. "Claire?" He leaned forward.

Her eye lids fluttered open and she stared with unfocused eyes at Jake. She opened and closed her mouth in an attempt to talk. Jake reached for the pitcher of water beside her bed and poured her a small cup. Raising the bed, he helped her take a couple of small sips.

"Why are you here?" Claire whispered.

"I can leave if you want." Jake started to stand up.

"No," she grabbed his paw. "I didn't mean it like that."

"What happened?" Jake settled back down, letting her hold onto his paw.

Her eyes widened. "I died."

"You remember that?"

"Yes," she looked away. "I saw it. I felt it." Her eyes clouded over. "My mother was there."

Jake felt a chill that had nothing to do with his cold. He believed in magic. He'd seen it with the Pastmaster. But the afterlife was something different altogether.

"Are you sure?" Jake croaked.

Claire nodded forcefully. "She spoke to me. Some of it was in French."

"What did she say?"

"Je vous manque," Claire smiled sadly.

"Yeah, um I took French in high school. I remember a few phrases. But not that one. I meant, what did she say in English?" Jake covered his mouth to keep from coughing on her.

Claire squeezed his paw but didn't answer. Instead, she closed her eyes and pulled his paw into both of hers and whispered softly.

"Ô mon Dieu, appuyé sur ta puissance infinie et sur tes promesses, j'espère avec une ferme confiance obtenir le pardon de mes péchés, l'assistance de ta grâce et la vie éternelle, par les mérites de Jésus Christ mon Sauveur."

Jake didn't get all of what she said, but enough to know it was a prayer. He let his own eyes fall shut as she spoke. When she finished, he reopened his eyes to find tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Um..." Both kats looked up at Chance who was standing in the doorway. "Translation please."

Claire shot Jake a look and he smiled. He repeated the first part of the prayer.

" Ô mon Dieu, oh my God... and then I'm lost," Jake chuckled softly, surprised to find his own eyes to be watery.

"O my God," Claire repeated. "Supported on your infinite power and your promises, I hope with a firm confidence to obtain the forgiveness of my sins, in assistance of your grace and eternal life, by the merits of Jesus Christ my Savior." Her voice wavered.

Jake felt his gut twist at the words. It was as if a part of him had just been removed and replaced with something unfamiliar. He pulled his paw from hers and left the room.

Claire gave Chance a strange look. "How did you know I was here last night?"

Chance returned the look. "How did you know I knew you were here?"

"I saw you." She breathed out. "At the desk, talking to the receptionist."

"That's impossible." Chance blinked at her.

"I was with my mother," Claire closed her eyes. She sounded exhausted. "I need to get a message to a Swat Kat."

Chance's eyes widened. "And what would that be?"

"Je vous pardonne," she whispered tiredly. "Je vous pardonne, Razor."

Chance gently patted her paw before leaving her to rest. He found Jake leaning against the wall outside her room.

"These are for you." The tabby pulled a pack of lifesavers out of his pocket.

"Thanks," Jake replied.

"You okay?"

Jake didn't respond as he worked open the roll of cherry flavored candies.

"She said she needed to get a message to a Swat Kat." Chance leaned against the wall beside him. He narrowed his eyes before clumsily repeating what she just said. "Je... uh... je vous pardonne, Razor?"  
Jake dropped the candy. Luckily, he hadn't managed to get it open yet. "You know," he finally freed a piece of candy and popped it into his mouth. "I was raised Catholic and we had a similar prayer we would say. Hers is a lot nicer though." He had a stunned look on his face, as if he was still reeling from her message.

"What was yours?" Chance shoved his paws into his pockets.

"Forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of Hell and lead all souls to Heaven, especially those who are in most need of Thy mercy." Jake managed to wince as he said it.

"Hard to believe you, as science minded as you are, were Catholic. I mean, that's a pretty heavy religion." Chance gave him a sideways look. "Tell me, mister 'I took French in high school', exactly what did I just say to you a few minutes ago?"

"I forgive you." Jake looked down at his feet. He sniffed loudly, an action that had nothing to do with his cold, and quickly wiped his eyes. "I think I need to call it a day."

* * *

The next time Chance visited Jake, he was waiting for him outside the clinic, curled up tightly against the cold and rubbing his paws together. "Weren't you just sick?" Chance glared at the slender kat.

"Yeah and I've been stuck inside the past week. I knew you were coming. I haven't been out here long." Jake followed him back to the truck and relaxed into the warm interior. "How's Claire?"

"Clean," Chance replied. "That's about all I can tell you. She's been really quiet. I think her near death experience scared her."

"From the way she told it," Jake shivered. "It was more than just _near_ death."

"Yeah." Chance sighed and they drifted into an awkward silence.

"So, um..." Jake looked down at his knees. "I got a couple more weeks and I can go home."

Chance's ears perked up. "That's great news, bud."

"Is it?" Jake gave Chance a wary look.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"What if I screw up?"

Chance took his eyes off the road for a moment. "You can do this, Jake. You've done great, only slipped up a couple of times."

Jake nodded stiffly.

"So where are we going? To the park? To get some lunch? What?"

Jake sucked in a deep breath. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Chance he wanted to see his parents. But he pushed it down. "Lunch is good."

Chance gave him a funny look. He'd been sure Jake was about to ask to do something else but couldn't tell. "Alright. Lunch it is. Hope you don't mind eating at Chet Furlong. It's been kind of slow lately."

"Are you kidding?" Jake smirked. "That place has the best sandwiches."

Claire looked up from the couch in the lobby when the tow truck returned. She'd been working on some of the books since they didn't have any customers. She nodded at Chance and fixed Jake with a slightly awkward grin. Chance returned the nod while Jake sort of stared at her before hurrying through to the stairs that led up into the home.

Jake made his own lunch and sat down at the table. "This place is really clean."

"We'll see how long that lasts now that she doesn't have anything winding her up." Chance replied quietly. "So, am I just getting my brother back or am I getting my partner back too?"  
Jake bit his lip. "Um well, I've thought about it and... I still have to think about it."

Chance shrugged. "No rush. I'm just glad you're coming home."

"Me too," Jake replied quietly.

* * *

tbc...


End file.
